Of Phantoms and Shadows
by Ezperanza Frost
Summary: Aspiring vet student, horse nut, and music lover Christine Daae is a freshman at Oklahoma State University. Her newly acquired job at the Labas Stables is everything she ever wanted in a job. However, when a beautiful black horse with a attitude proves to fancy the girl, Christine find herself on the wrong side of one owner who could make or break her employment. Who is the mystery
1. Chapter 1

The frost kissed grass gleamed in the silver light from the bloated moon. Caesar snorted, puffs from his hot breath bursting from his flared velvet nostrils. The ride had been hard, but it was much needed. Another round would do no good for the horse, or the dark figure upon his proud back. If his master were to push him further, the horse would possibly be injured. This did nothing to quell the mood the man was in, but his horse meant everything to him. The stallion was the only thing to keep him sane. His only friend.

The only one who could look upon his face and not flee in fear.

He hadn't always been as he was now. He had been a star, an award-winning professional showered with money and gold. He had found his niche when the niche was rich and full. He could almost hear the crowd among the silence of the night. Oh, how he used to love it. No matter what he had done in the past, people had loved him. They _had_ thought him human.

It had been ten years since his last normal glance in the mirror. He had loved his good looks, his ego, and his way with the ladies. However, all good things come to an end for a man with his type of personality. Of course, others deemed him high upon his own horse. That was only because, at the time, he believed he had everything. He was a god and gods didn't ever fall from their thrones.

Oh, how wrong he had been.

Ten years ago, on his twentieth birthday, his lavish estate had been alive with vibrant party goers as they splashed booze upon the fancy marble countertops of his kitchen. The occasion had also been a celebration of the many wins he had acquired. Whether it be for his birthday or for his accomplishments, the celebration deemed remarkable nonetheless. Many people he had acquaintances with only through school ambled down the halls. He had never seen those people in any other light than that of a number or a brief name.

She was there, however, and he was smitten in the blink of her deep green gaze. The emerald vixen had been strapped to the nines, looking a perfect ten among the crowd. Her eyes undressed him, and he wanted nothing more than to do the same in person. However cocky he was, a decrepit man he was not. He was still a gentleman through it all, and still was despite everything that had happened.

The emerald goddess had been named Anna. Red flaming curls tumbled down past her shoulders to fall in waves of fire down her back. She was smaller than him, dainty yet strong. He knew she could hold her own and it intrigued him. She was beautiful, and he wanted her. A number exchange, numerous dates, and many kisses later, and they were inseparable. She loved him. He thought he loved her. Had he any idea of love at the time, he would have known he had not been capable of it with her. Everything leading up to such a thing had been a blur and, to be honest, he had no idea where his head had been.

In truth, it had not been the one upon his shoulders that had done much thinking.

Before the girl, he had furthered his trophy trove by ten-fold. Along with this, his ego had only grown. His knowledge dampened to his heightened sense of self-confidence. He was professional in whatever he decided to dabble in that week. Western games, dressage, English, hunter under saddle, and many more equestrian type events littered the brass name plates of many a plaque or trophy. Sums of money piled within his pockets as he hauled his priceless horses to and from these said events.

Anna continued to see him, but only when he allowed it in his schedule. \ She was generous, kind, and much different than what he had dealt with before. She was everything he was not. He knew nothing of commitment, of relationships or how to love. This was only because of his past and the new sense that he could not be tamed. Because of his lack of a home life, he was a monster within.

Despite his attitude, Anna had stayed. She loved horses and had loved working with them as much as he did. While he was away, she would care for the ones he hadn't taken with him. Her generosity had gone unnoticed but at the time, he didn't care. He rolled in the dough, walked among the many faces of presidents, and lathered himself with riches. A god did not fall from his throne, he would always tell himself. No matter what mortal beauty threw herself at his feet.

He had not known love. He had only known pleasure, lust, and fame. Erik was a man of money and when he was not, he was the man of the hour. While adventuring across the country, he felt the need to frequent the alleys and darkness to release his torment. The females he paid were only allowed to do as he said, and he never allowed them above the waist. Before long, even he grew bored.

Until one day, when he found himself gazing into the pericing emeralds of Anna. Had he known love and had he realized the truth behind the girl, he would have never placed himself in such a situation. But he did and he realized there was much more to the girl than what met the eyes.

She had caught him fooling around. The air had been charged with anger and rage, his foolish nature believing it to be nothing more than the changing of the wind. He was an imbacile, slow to catch on the fact that the woman who loved him had been nothing less of magical.

He didn't believe in magic, though. Or, at least, he thought he didn't. Anna had proved him wrong. She was a witch, the ancient kind that had been foolish enough to fall for a womanizing scoundrel. Red flooded her vison and she had known to do only one thing.

Enact revenge.

So, in his mansion, she had confronted him. It wasn't mere words that did this, but pure power. It was enough to shake the ground, to vibrate the walls, and send objects zooming violently all around them. He had just returned from one of his various rodeo trips and she had been given information anonymously of his recent actions. As soon as she heard this, she dove into researching his various activities. A long line of evils were to follow and she knew immediately he had to be stopped.

"Why didn't you just break up with me?" Anna screamed at the man she had loved.

A sheepish grin slid across his handsome features. If she hadn't been so angry, she would have fallen for him once again. "What are you talking about?"

Her phone screen illuminated the pictures and witness accounts of his treachery. His face paled and she narrowed her eyes. "Why did you keep me handing on like this?"

"Because I love you?" He shrugged.

She laughed despite everything. "You? Love? You have no idea what it is. If you loved me, you would have remained faithful."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He foolishly denied. The air sparked with a sudden energy he couldn't identify. It scared him, but he had too much else to do to worry about this.

"Deny it, that's fine." She spat. "But I can't let you get away with such a thing. Because I know you will do it again. You will never change."

"I don't have time for this." He snorted, turning his shoulders away and grabbing his jacket. "I'm leaving, and I don't want to see you here anymore. We are over."

The air suddenly chilled. The icy fingers of cold wrapped themselves around him, clutching his heart and squeezing. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see. All he could do was hear her voice and feel the rage boiling forth from her very soul.

" _You slave to fashion and lust,"_ She hissed, emeralds alight with the fires of hate. Her voice was unearthly, shaking the very boards of the floor beneath his feet. _"I pity you. Shall you brandish the nastiness within your soul on the very face that others find beautiful."_

He turned, blinking back the fogginess threatening to blind him. "What are you talking about? What are you doing to me?"

" _May God grant someone the courage to show you what love really means and may you learn to sacrifice in the name of it. Then, and only then, will you become yourself again."_

"Stop," he begged, the pain splitting him in two. "Please stop this. It hurts."

She continued, _"May this pain remind you of what you have done and let the shadows be forever your friend."_

And just like that, he was ruined, and Anna was gone. Nothing could fix what she had done. No one would look at him the same. For ten years, he had found no one particularly fancied a face such as his. Had he glanced in a mirror to see the witches handy work? Of course, he had. Those mirrors were broken now or ripped from the walls of his lifeless home. The halls no longer blazed with vibrant parties or humans in general. They were shrouded in shadow.

In a fit of rage, he had sold his horses. They reminded him of his past, the wound still deep and sensitive. The only items to remain were the glittering trophies, saddles, and other tack. Those he had packed away and hidden or hung in one of the various empty rooms of his mansion. The stables on the grounds had rotted with disuse and the pastures drowned in weeds unsprayed. For ten years, he had no interest in dipping back into what gave him life. The shadows consumed his soul and everything he ever loved.

For the next ten years, he only kept to the shadows. He chose to never step into the sun, to never hear the hoofbeats of a horse, or even gaze at one. It was too painful, too much of a reminder of who he had been and what had gotten him into his cursed situation. Had he realized his actions long ago, he would be normal. Unscathed. Not ugly.

He was a monster. A demon fallen from grace. His throne he so heavily believed would never fall crumbled into dust beneath him. The glittering halls of his ego were not filled with cobwebs as thick as the ones draped over his soul. The heart beating within his chest blackened like the char. In no longer would beat for anything or anyone.

For some unknown reason, a horse had found him. It was spur of the moment, a purchase he had made on a whim. Nadir, one of the only other people to stay in his life after the occurrence happened, had suggested he get into something that did not require much time outside. A horse was far from everyone's mind, but it just happened. He had sworn himself to living in darkness, but the darkness was not entirely him.

His home had no stables anymore. Time had consumed them. Erik had money, though. Therefore, to ensure he knew his best four-legged friend was given the upmost care, he bought a stable. Cesar stayed in the care of a very trusting woman by the name of Mrs. Giry. He only called her thus, her demeanor more like that of a strict mother. In truth, he feared her which was something he never would admit. She took excellent care of his horse, though, through the communication of text message or notes placed in his stall.

Managing the stable was entirely up to her. He was no business man; therefore, she would be the one to deal with hiring and firing as well as paying employees. He would be given full access when he wanted, and she would oversee his horse. There was to be no one else caring for the animal but him and her. That would be final.

When she suggested one day to lease out stalls for patrons, he had not been fancying the idea. That would intrude upon his privacy and his privacy he coveted as much as the care for his horse. He had agreed to the idea on one condition: he would not deal directly with patrons. That was Mrs. Giry's job.

Erik Labas slowed his black stallion to an unhurried walk. The beast's sides heaved from the demanding workout. His owner's own sides heaved as well. Warm breathes escaped the nose hole of the mask covering the left side of his face. Its bone white starkness contrast against the darkness of the night. However, if he were to have a black one, he would have worn it more often. It wasn't everyday people made face formed masks for a face like his.

"She told me to learn how to love," The man laughed within the darkened arena within the stables. The deep mirth echoed against the walls. "Who could ever learn to love a monster such as me?"

After their ride, Erik returned his steed to his rightful stall. Placing hay within the feeder and brushing him down under the soft glow of an incandescent light, the man finally quit for the night. He scrawled quick instructions for Mrs. Giry to bide in the morning. He was off after that, midnight falling fast and cold on the fall day. He had stayed out too late yet again, but he needed it. He thoughts had been plagued of a pair of chocolate eyes. For some reason, they called to him.

They told him he was not alone even though everyday he lived he was as such.

Still, the crisp air was enough to drive the thoughts away. No one would ever know he had been there and Mrs. Giry told not a soul of nightly ventures. The only time he could ride was at night. Avoiding the prying eyes of those who did not understand his situation was enough to keep him from walking out into daylight. Besides, he had all the money he could live from for as long as he did that. So, no job was needed. Seeing the sunlight was not in his schedule.

His mind strayed to the dreams of those chocolate brown eyes behind the darkness of his eyelids while he opened the door to his truck and turned the key. The engine roared to life and the sleek black vehicle exited the stable grounds. He closed the gate neatly behind him and locked it back to where it had been. Then, he was away to his dark sanctuary.

That night, he woke from a restless slumber with cold beads of sweat upon his brow. Chocolate browns blinked at him through the shrouds of shadows bathing his dreams. Accompanying them was the most beatific voice he had ever heard. He had never heard such a thing before and this had been the first time the dream had thrust him awake so violently.

A hot tear strolled down his face. He reached up to touch his cheek with the tips of his fingers but winced as the nasty skin met the sensitive pads. If the person within his dreams, the Angel of Music he swore divine was real, he hoped to never meet them.

He was all alone. Shunned by the multitude and driven to solitude. No one would listen to his turmoil, but he felt as if the one in his dreams would. If God could only grant them the courage to do so, maybe they could show him he was not a slave to the shadow.

But then, who could ever learn to love a monster.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, dammit all."

Christine Daae cursed for the fourth time that morning as she blundered in a hurried mess toward her truck. She was late. It was not like Christine Daae to be late. To top it all off, her phone began buzzing in her back pocket non-stop. It had to have been Meg. There was no one else besides her boss who would blow her phone up as much.

She quickly threw her satchel into the passenger seat of her single cab Ford before shutting the door and starting the newer model up. It was white, blinding in the Saturday morning sunshine of the chilly fall morning. The frost had melted slightly to make way for dew kissed grass sparkling in the warm rays. She smiled despite being late.

Through luck, and a bit of charm, she had been able to acquire the job she had wanted most since she had been living in Stillwater, Oklahoma attending pre-veterinary undergrad classes. She had been vying for a strictly hands-on job with any type of livestock animal since she had never been so close to one in her entire life. The big city of Seattle, Washington, had been too much pavement for a girl who yearned to fly barefoot through wet grass on a warm, spring day.

Of course, she had done that multiple times since they had moved to Oklahoma. The state's weather was odd. If one didn't like it, they only had to wait fifteen minutes before it would change its attitude and everything else completely. It was very chilly fall, but she didn't care. Fall was her favorite season, spring a close second. Fall meant fairs and fairs meant livestock. It meant deep fried anything and the smells that she had fallen in love with when she first let her tennis shoe touch Oklahoma red dirt.

Moving had not been an easy option. Her father had been a very talented musician in during his prime. However, not much was taking place in the music industry when it involved classical composition. He had done it for her, though. He wished her to become successful. So, they packed up and moved away from the large city and into the country of Pawhuska, Oklahoma. Everything she knew, she loved, had been left behind in Washington. The summers were much cooler, the scenery was less flat. Starbucks was right around the corner, which was a blessing on a day she felt zombified. Oklahoma had Starbucks, another blessing, but it just wasn't the same. However, she soon found she loved grabbing a sweet tea from Sonic during happy hour.

Since it was beginning to become chilly, winter creeping upon the Oklahoma State University student body, she felt the need for warm sustenance and caffeine. Thankful she had brewed a pot right before leaving her one-bedroom apartment, she sipped on it carefully while rushing safely down Sangre road toward her new job.

The barn rested back from the road with only a gravel drive separating it from the civilization. Down Sangre road, and just up a hill, was the bustling highway leading toward the town. Ultimately, at the end of that road, there were a few more turns until one reached campus.

Christine turned onto the gravel drive. A small, but pristine, sign read the name of the stable and its address. Labas Stable was scrawled in fancy black upon a stark white background. She glanced at it before pulling her truck into the open gateway and slowly creeping toward the barn. At the very end, standing large and bright, was the stable. She had been impressed with it when she had first pulled in for an application.

Parking was set directly in front and on the sides. The office lay directly inside the building. There were various vehicles already parked out front, but one spot had been left and the girl took it wish gusto. She saw various people leading horses around and out of stalls.

"You're late! On your first day. What the heck, Chris?" Christine's best, and only friend, exclaimed suddenly. Christine jumped, her heart lurching in her chest.

Christine rolled her eyes and opened her door. "I know. My alarm didn't go off."

Meg rolled her eyes. "Yeah. That will fly well with my mother."

Christine shuddered and got out of her vehicle. "Oh, geeze. I have to talk to her, don't I?"

"You're lucky," Meg stated as she began walking toward the stable. Christine followed, heart in her stomach. She was nervous. "She's in a good mood today. You might not die on your first day. _And,_ its orientation, so be thankful."

"I am so thankful." Christine grimaced.

They headed directly toward the giant green and white double doors to the stables. They were wide open, letting the cool air flow into the barn and waft out whatever dampness had gathered inside. Some of the other student workers, there weren't many, led horses toward round pens. Many were already working the beasts, daily exercise important for both man and steed. Christine found her eyes wondering, watching the magnificent animals at full gallops. Sleek muscles pulsed under gleaming hide. Various shades of mane billowed behind. Deep eyes regarded the human urging them to run, to work themselves. She loved it.

"Hey, dreamscape, your mouth is hanging open." Meg stated. Christine shook her head. "Orientation is going to start in five. You should hurry."

Meg had led Christine to the mouth of the huge barn. Two rows of stalls stretched as far as she could see to her left and right. Alert muzzles peeked from iron, looking for treats or pets. She spotted one, but before she could close the distance between the animal and her, a firm hand placed itself upon her shoulder.

"Are you going to be okay?" Meg asked.

Christine nodded, a smile upon her face. "Of course, Blondie. If I am not late again, I will be just fine."

Meg gave the girl a gentle smile. "Okay. Lunch break at twelve. Fill me in."

With that, the blond was off to do her own chores. She oversaw a few of the patrons' horses who leased paddocks. Most people who could not afford land would rent stalls at the stables to give their horse room to run. Behind every stall was enough land for them to stretch their fine legs and get the fire within them sated. Christine would manage a few horses as well which excited her and scared her a bit.

Inhaling deeply, the girl gripped the fancy green and white door to the conference room, and pulled.

"Miss Daae!"

Christine's heart leapt into her throat. "Mrs. Giry, I am so sorry…"

"Let me guess," The older woman stood from her desk and rounded the edge to stand in front. Wide eyes from a few of her fellow newbies blinked in surprise. "Your alarm didn't go off."

Christine swallowed her heart to attempt to replace it to its rightful spot. "Yes, ma'am. It will not happen again."

The older woman turned up her nose. "It better not. Let this be your first warning."

Even though Meg was Christine's best friend, her mother was not. Sure, she was a great woman outside of work. However, during work hours, she was even more strict than anyone could imagine. Christine had first pondered on the name the workers had given her, The Great White, when she had first arrived to grab an application. She overheard some of the student workers complaining about her. She had not understood fully what it had meant until the interview process.

Knowing Meg was not the reason she had received the job, but it had helped to lessen the blow a bit from The Great White.

"Yes, ma'am." Christine nodded and made her way toward the long conference table. She chose a seat toward the back and near the dry erase board.

It was a fairly large room. It served two purposes: class and conference. The employee office was just behind Mrs. Giry's desk and held a large fridge containing lunch for those who didn't wish to head to town. Meg told Christine many stories of being caught lounging with the office while waiting for a job to come or the clock to hit noon. It honestly made the brunette laugh.

"All right." Mrs. Giry stood erect and clasped her hands together. Her long, white hair, hung in a loose braid over her shoulders. She began pacing, her worn jeans and shirt creasing as she strutted back and forth. "Today is your first day. I will set some ground rules, and then I will give you your stalls. These horses you will care for when the owner is not present or cannot make it. This applies to most of them since half of our patrons live in town."

There were nods around the room. Christine peeked at some of her fellow employees, noting a very handsome young man sitting a few chairs away from her. His long, dirty blond hair had been swept behind his ears. His hands were large and he was fit. She wondered if she had seen him before.

"The first rule at Labas stables is to remember to check everything. The horses you will be assigned will need water and food. Make sure each has it. They are stalled at night, do not let them out. Check to make sure all stall doors are secured."

Mrs. Giry's wrinkled blues glided over the student faces. They nodded and continued to listen. Christine continued to wonder about what horses she would receive. Hoping they were relatively easy to deal with, she glanced up from letting her eyes drop to the fake wooden conference table. The boy sitting two seats away had his striking blues set upon her chocolate browns. She blinked a few times before Mrs. Giry's voice played across the room once more.

"Secondly: Everyone should arrive _early_ ," The elderly woman cast her cold gaze upon Christine and everyone else's did the same. A moment passed, her cheeks flamed red, and then the woman's gaze began its sweep again. "If you are not, I don't need you here."

The air grew thick with tension. They were being somewhat lectured, she felt. It wasn't too odd to think the old woman would do such a thing. Still, her first day included a lecture. That was new to her. She had never really received a lecture on her first day. Usually it was just some warnings and a snippet of rules. Then, she was given her assignments. In truth, though, she had only a few jobs that didn't involve large animals.

"Lastly," Mrs. Giry explained, "do not come past dark. If you have checked everything you should have, there is no need to be out here. There are only a few spare keys."

This was an odd rule but Christine could also understand. A night out in the country was unlike anything she had ever seen when she was in Washington. The city lights would dim any kind of starlight. In Oklahoma, if a person was far away from the city, the stars glimmered brilliantly like diamonds upon black velvet. The glow from Stillwater didn't make a dent upon the blackness of the sky. It was one sight she would never get tired of.

She could understand not going out at night. She hoped she never had to. The night was beautiful, but it was also dangerous.

"That's it for now," Mrs. Giry clapped her hands together. "I have printed off your stall assignments. Miss. Daae, come see me in a minute. Everyone else, find your stalls and get yourself familiar with the horses. I will be out shortly to go over feeding. Meet in the feed room toward the end of the barn."

Christine's heart leapt for the millionth time in a few moments. Was she in trouble again? If it was about being late she would have had nothing to really say about it. Her alarm had not gone off. Her first classes for the semester had already assigned her homework and that had made her stay up way past when she wanted to go to bed.

She stood with the other students. The guy from earlier gazed at her with his brilliant blues flashing slight worry. She gave him a sweet smile, not knowing the reason why she did that other than to his face of the concern. He didn't know her. She could handle herself. If there were any problems, she would have to manage it on her own. She didn't need some stranger up in her affairs. She squared herself and proceeded up toward Mrs. Giry's desk. The woman had taken her seat in front of a large computer monitor.

"Christine," The woman didn't look up from the computer screen. She typed for a moment, then the printer next to her upon a small end table began to spit out a copied sheet of something.

"Mrs. Giry, if this is because of being late…"

The woman held her hand up. She gripped the printed piece of paper with the other and laid it upon the surface of the desk in front of the girl. "This has nothing to do with you being late. This has to do with your stall assignments."

Christine glanced at the paper resting upon the desk. Numbers and words were typed in Times New Roman in order. She had been given stalls five through ten. Each name of the horse had been typed next to the stall number with the amount of feed each horse received. Their owners were not listed among the items printed to the side of each. She could see nothing wrong with what she could see, but that was entirely up to Mrs. Giry.

"What's the problem, Mrs. Giry?" Christine hesitantly asked.

The older woman glanced up from the computer screen, the light reflecting into her eyes. She placed her hands together and rested her elbows upon the desk surface.

"Stall number five, there," She pointed to the first stall. "I cannot assign you that stall."

Christine rose an eyebrow in confusion. "If I may ask, why?"

The older woman blinked and sighed. "That is a complicated story and one I will not tell. I will find other another stall to assign you. In the meantime, just learn today what you need to do for the four you have."

Still confused, Christine could only nod. "Yes, ma'am."

The girl took her stall assignment sheet, and turned to leave.

"Christine," Mrs. Giry's voice was much softer than it had been. The girl turned toward her. Mrs. Giry's face was bright, a contrast to that of what it had been earlier. "I am very glad you are working here. I know how much you wanted to work with large animals. I hope this helps somewhat."

Christine stared at the lady for a few moments, then nodded. A small smile formed upon her face. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Giry. I am really glad to have gotten the job."

With that, she gripped the door to the room and stepped out into the breezeway of the stable. The clicking of horse hooves immediately met her ears, her eyes turning to see one of the student workers leading a beautiful black horse down toward its stall. Christine was no professional on horses, but she had done some studying on certain breeds. The one being led appeared to be a large Friesian stallion.

The sun gleamed through his fearsome black mane, waving as if it had been braided. Her unruly hair was nothing but curls and she was envious of the animal's luscious hair. The warm rays caused his silky coat to glow. Hardened muscles bulged under taut skin, glossy black hooves clacked against the cement surface breezeway. His long, lustrous ebony tale swept back and forth with his gate. To her, his walk seemed anything but normal. It was strained. He was wanting to flee?

She had no idea where these ideas were coming from.

Then, the stallion flipped his head. The handler attempted to keep the beast's lead within their grasp, but the girl stood no chance. The giant black animal reared on its hind two, pawing with ebony hooves into the cool air. The girl screamed, hands above her head in defense rendering the lead rope she had once held now free to swing back and forth. The stallion turned away from her, rich brown eyes casting wildly about. Fuzzy dark ears were pinned back in anger, the sleek mane flowing behind as he surged forward toward the entrance.

And directly toward Christine.

The girl was in shock, her feet frozen in place. Her entire being had lost all capabilities of movement while the animal rushed toward her. She had never seen such an act before except for in movies. Knowing what to do was not in her favor. She could foresee the horse plowing her over before her brain calculated how to move again.

"Miss," Someone shouted. "Watch out!"

She snapped from her trance. By pure instinct, she didn't know how else it had happened, she stepped in front of the direct line of fire. The horse began to slow, sides heaving with intense respiration. The thundering of his hooves began to gradually decrease. She carefully raised her hand toward the animal. Something in her gut screamed to calm the thing, but she had no idea why. He was scared, frantic. If she had been in his situation, she would have fled, too.

What made the animal so flighty?

Time seemed to stop between beast and woman. The other workers seemed to fade away. Everything dissolved until there was only him and her. She could feel his fear, a sudden thing as fleeting as a passing thought. He didn't like his handler. That much, she knew. His breaths came short, his muscles tense.

"It's okay," she whispered to the steed. His ears perked as his trot transformed into a walk. "It's okay. There is no need to be scared."

Velvet met flesh as the stallion slowed and stepped up toward the girl. All eyes were upon her while she pressed her fingertips between the flaring black nostrils. His eyes were wide, wild with fear. As soon as she felt his warm breath upon her skin, they began to calm. He was alert, sides slowing their furious inhalation.

"It's okay," She whispered. Her fingers stretched further up the bridge of his nose.

At first, the stallion only whisked his tail. She could hear his course breathing. With her own eyes, she gazed deep within his. Somehow, she knew what to do. If this was instinct, then she could understand why some people swore by it. He needed someone to trust there but no one was trust worthy enough for him.

Something gleamed upon the black halter the horse bore. Christine's eyes flicked upward to see a name in script upon a brass plate. She had only seen this kind of halter in fancy magazines about horse racing. This halter was the best money could buy. Silver buckles clasped loosely on the horse's proud face, the bronze name plate bent over the curved bridge of his nose.

"Cesar?" She voiced, studying the script. "Is that your name, buddy?"

The horse pressed his muzzle deeper into her hand, lips flipping over her fingers. Was he looking for treats? She wasn't sure, but she had seen horses do such things on movies. It could have been a possibility.

"Miss Daae?" a confused voice brought the girl from her trance. The horse's broke as well, his head snapping toward the voice. "Would you please stand back from him, Miss Daae."

Christine turned, as well, and her shoulders instantly drooped. Mrs. Giry's sharp blues regarded the scene before her. Christine's heart panged with guilt. She was in trouble yet again. That made three times in one day. How on Earth could she keep this job if trouble was all she ever found? The stallion snorted, his muzzle touching her shoulder slightly.

"He got loose, Mrs. Giry. I promise I was not trying to…" The girl began.

Mrs. Giry held up a wrinkled hand. "Save it. Meg, come here and grab this beast. Take him to his stall."

Meg appeared beside Christine, her eyes hinting her own confusion. She wished to asked Christine about the whole ordeal, but knew the manager's mood had suddenly shifted from decent to not so decent in a matter of minutes. The older woman watched as her own daughter gripped the halter and lead of the stallion. His once cool browns instantly flared with fear, the whites stark against his sleek black coat.

She felt his sudden terror. It split her soul in two. Knowing this, she glanced at Meg with eyes narrowed. "I don't think he wants to go back."

"That does not concern you, child." Mrs. Giry scolded. "Meg, please take him back. We have work to do."

"Let me do it," Christine's eyes widened toward the older woman. Pleading. She didn't want the horse to hurt anyone if he was capable of it.

Mrs. Giry wanted to fight. Christine could see it plain as the daylight streaming in through the double doors. There was conflict there, a breach of a contract. Perhaps it has something to do with the what they had discussed earlier. However, Christine was highly doubtful. Cesar was just a horse who was scared. There was nothing behind it.

However, Mrs. Giry knew something. A tiny pinprick of an idea formed in Christine's head and she suddenly felt there was something more to the horse than just a stall. However, the woman's eyes flashed to her struggling daughter behind. The stallion had not given up the fight. Fierce snorts puffed hot breaths upon Christine's neck. She turned toward the animal, his eyes meeting hers. They calmed a bit and his head stilled.

"Fine," The older woman stated with a sigh. "I will lead you to his stall."

She stepped forward, her hands behind her back. Glancing once more at beast and girl before her, she turned and began walking toward the stalls. Christine took the lead from Meg, their eyes locked together with an unspoken confusion. Cesar nuzzled her hair as she pulled on the lead. He fell in step behind her comfortably, not an ounce flight within him. He was calm.

Mrs. Giry stopped in front of a stall which looked normal enough. However, a fancy black name plate hung upon the solid wooden siding. It read the same script as the halter. However, upon the black iron bars above the wood, a dry erase board was strapped with black ties. She noticed the fancy black script in marker detailed certain things needing to be done with the horse. For a moment, she wondered on the writer. In the center, upon what seemed to be a sliding door of the same make, was a number plate.

The number read stall number five.

It was a normal stall. It appeared as all the others beside it. Still, Christine could not deny the chill that sliced up her spine. Something dark twisted around the bars, had seemed into the wood. There was an air about it that one steered around while doing daily things. She would have to get to the bottom of the story, if there ever was one.

Mrs. Giry slid open the door to the stall and motioned the girl to lead the horse inside. Within, fresh wood chips were thick upon the floor. She stepped through them, bringing up the scent she loved most. The stallion stepped over the threshold easily, wood shavings shifting under his feathered hooves.

The stall was large with a sliding green wooden ahead of her. This one, she figured, would open toward the large paddock behind. It was wide open for the stallion to stretch his long, sleek legs. Mrs. Giry's impatient look told Christine to do quick business with her new-found friend. She turned toward the waiting animal.

"Just unhitch the lead from his halter and let him go out." Mrs. Giry stated from behind the bars.

Christine blinked, seeing the heavy-duty latch under the horse's chin. She flipped it and the lead came free. She gazed into Cesar's eyes, and smiled. "There you go, bud. It's nice to meet you Cesar. Be nice to everyone."

The stallion nudged her as she scooted around him toward the door. He turned, shuffling the wood chips under his feet. Flecks of them caught themselves in his tail, contrasting themselves against the deep ebony of his tail. A soft noise escaped the animal as she touched the exit. She glanced at him, his eyes deep with something akin to sorrow.

Reaching out, his muzzle met her palm. "I'm not going anywhere, bud. Don't worry."

Then, her trance faded as soon as her foot stepped down upon the cement again. Mrs. Giry slid closed the stall door behind the girl. Mrs. Giry's eyes gave an unspoken order to follow her. The girl nodded and trailed after the woman. Some of the student workers had ceased working, staring at the new girl. She felt their eyes but was unsure of the emotion behind them.

"What happened, Miss Daae?" Mrs. Giry finally asked in front of the office door. Her face was blank, which made the girl feel a little less nervous.

"Well," Christine breathed in. "He got loose from whoever was leading him and he came running to me. I know about as much of what happened as you do."

The older woman nodded. "I see,"

"I don't know much about horses, Mrs. Giry." Christine stated. "He seemed scared."

Mrs. Giry's eyes scanned the workers still standing still. With a roll of her eyes, she sighed. "What are you doing?"

All eyes jerked and began busying themselves with whatever they _had_ been doing before the show. Mrs. Giry's brows wrinkled with frustration. Christine took a moment to admire the older woman. She seemed to remain in control, even though the girl new her boss was about as high strung as an Arabian. Christine had researched that as well as every breed possible. The air between them electrified with tension while Mrs. Giry waited patiently for the other workers to be farther away before she spoke to the girl once again. When her patience sated, Mrs. Giry's gaze fell back onto the girl.

"That horse is completely fine." Mrs. Giry stated. "He has done well here, so don't worry about him."

"But, I saw his eyes." Christine exclaimed. "I don't think he was very happy."

The woman's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do _not_ worry about him, Miss. Daae. I care for him personally. He is in good hands."

She couldn't argue with her boss. Christine had to bow down despite the sensation she felt drawing her toward the dark horse. With a nod, the girl glanced down toward stall five. She saw the black muzzle peep between the bars. She had researched different sounds horses had made while studying her jobs focus. She heard the stressed neigh coming from the black muzzle.

With a glance toward her boss, the girl sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

"The feed meeting will be in fifteen minutes. Go help Meg while I make a phone call." Mrs. Giry ordered.

Christine whirled around on her heel, scanning the barn for her friend. Meg swept out a stall at the very end, a cart full of wood shavings and manure beside her. She sighed and began making her way to see what she could do. However, a firm hand pressed fingers into her shoulder.

"When I interviewed you, I was surprised." Mrs. Giry's voice played a bit with humor. "I thought you told me you didn't know much about horses, Miss Daae."

Christine glanced back at her new boss with a grin. "I guess this is what they call instinct. Or gut feeling. I don't really know."

"It's a good quality." Mrs. Giry smiled with strait teeth. "We shall see if it come in handy later."


End file.
